


The Devil and The Singer

by AphTeavana



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Bar Fic, F/M, Ficlet, Kinda, Light Angst, Pinning Prussia, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 18:57:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14551245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AphTeavana/pseuds/AphTeavana
Summary: A Devil man falling in love with a Singer. How does one approach a beauty such as her?





	The Devil and The Singer

**Author's Note:**

> Just a lil something I decided to steal off my old Wattpad account for you guys. It’s one of my better ones so enjoy!
> 
> Russia’s dialect is still weird to me idk sue me
> 
> (I stg if u tri 2 find my wattpad i will kill u, it’s fukin embarrassing-)

There she stood on the pubs stage. Her voice was astounding as it leaped through the melody of the chorus. I came every Thursday just to hear her sing.

I took a long drink of my- what was this again? Ginger Ale, I think. Ivan had given it to me on the house and I can see why. It tastes like the cheap chemicals you’d expect it to be, only sold at a ridiculous price judging from the text on the chalkboard hanging overhead.

Looking back at the small stage, I see her finishing her last song of the night. She usually played three on a guitar or sometimes the piano. Although once she played on the flute, just three months ago. I hummed, exasperated. I wanted to confront her so badly. I’ve been harbouring a ‘small’ crush for a couple months by now.

 _'I'll do it next week. Just like I always say.'_ I look back over my left shoulder just in tome to watch her finish packing her instrument of the night to the side of the stage. She leaves and slowly weaves herself through the crowd, nodding to people giving her a quick praise and goodbye. By the time I hear the bell above the door ring, signalling her absence, I'm already back to my drink to finish it with a single swallow.

"Slow down, Devil comrade. You choke on fact is not usual alcohol. Gross yes?" I look up to see Ivan talking in his thick accent while wiping down the bar in front of me.

"How many times will I have to tell you I'm albino, not the _Teufel_?" I say in an accent of my own. Though mine is not as thick as it used to be.

"You should try talking her, да? I say her stay next time, small man." He gives me a great big smile that should really only appear on a child's face. Blink and you’d miss it.

I shake my head at him, "Nah, you don't need to do that for me. It's fine really."

"Nyet, I do for lovesick comrade Gilbert." Ivan pats my back.

All of a sudden there was shouting from outside that captured both of our attention for the moment. After a few seconds Ivan decided that his cleaning rag needed to be replaced with his lucky metal pipe. "I will be back tiny _дьявол_."

I watch the hefty six foot Russian manpower bend down under the back door where the ceiling dips low, a place to separate the back of the bar from the rest of the place, and walk out to the side door of the pub. Soon the commotion outside died down after a scream.

"Whatever that guy is having I'll take two." I joked with the other bartender and passed out drunk next to me.

They say nothing but it’s not like I was expecting a response anyways. My mind drifts back to the lady with a voice of velvet.

Ah, what’s it matter when I’m not anything to compare.


End file.
